


Lapse

by Marginson



Category: Halt and Catch Fire
Genre: Gen, Introspection, M/M, MacMillan Pain™
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-20
Updated: 2016-10-20
Packaged: 2018-08-23 13:36:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8329846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marginson/pseuds/Marginson
Summary: He doesn't have a good track record with genius coder kids.The thought should leave a bad taste in his mouth, but strangely, it doesn't. Honesty will do that for you.





	

**Author's Note:**

> A short and messy piece, I don't write very often so this might have some sort of a sequel, or not. Set during 3x06

 

He doesn’t even have time to put down the phone. Ryan launches himself at him, and for a split second, Joe doesn't feel like himself.

Or rather. He feels terribly like himself.

 

For a split second, the carefully maintained persona of 1986 Joe MacMillan doesn't seem to exist.

 

Oh, he knows he has been slipping in and out of it over the last few weeks. Because Ryan has been practically camping on his couch. And Joe has let himself relax, tentatively. He is very good at keeping up appearances, has been for years - but even he cannot do it round-the-clock.

Not when Ryan is constantly pushing at his limits without even realizing it and somehow, somehow getting through.

  
He hadn't planned to let so much of who he is filter through their exchanges - but it has been such a sweet relief - to talk and breathe and want as himself. Ryan is nothing but earnest, voicing doubts and frustration and asking, asking, asking as if to reassure himself that Joe even cares. 

And Joe, who conceals his doubts with big words and silence, can only marvel at him.

 

They collide and he feels ten years younger, and ten years older.  
In his arms the kid is beaming, shaking from the adrenaline rush. It is so genuine, and it feels true like nothing has felt true before.

A heartbeat. He's grinning too, holding him and not even trying to compose himself.

Let me have this, he thinks.

 

Suddenly it feels like things have shifted and Ryan is the one holding him up, dragging him out of the water, burning hands against his back, to a place where he can breathe, and breathe, and breathe.

 

He doesn't have a good track record with genius coder kids.

The thought should leave a bad taste in his mouth, but strangely, it doesn't. Honesty will do that for you.

“I trust you,” he wants to say. “I trust you.”

The nightmare that were the past weeks. Him showing up on the 4th of July - staying. He has no clue what Ryan understood, or thought he understood - it hits him that he isn’t afraid of whatever Ryan thought. And that’s the irony, really - under the veneer and behind the speeches, Joe is always afraid.

“I trust you.” The words are like a prayer in his mind.  
  
The sound won’t come out of his mouth.

 

They part after a second and he meets Ryan’s eyes -  burning too bright and talking too fast. Something inside him sees and wants, wants everything, the unaltered joy and the frantic search, the conviction, the stubbornness, the uncertainty, the trust.

 

He exhales, starts rambling about meetings and endless talks to try and stop his mind from screaming at him. Ryan stops him, too excited to notice anything.  
Joe hears himself suggesting something about scotch.

 

He feels himself slipping out of character again - it is sloppy and careless and he should know better.

Somehow though, right now, it’s perfect.  


 


End file.
